“True. I just can’t imagine not having a dad. Mine has always been there.”
“Hope doesn’t seem to miss it at all.”
“She’s a girl,” he said as if estrogen explained everything. “It would probably be harder for her without a mom.”
Now it was time for Melanie to think about Jo. She’d grown up without her mom, bucking her father . . . “Yeah, I guess.”
“Mommy! Uncle Wyatt . . . c’mere.”
“Uncle?” Wyatt asked with a grin.
“She’s been calling Zoe ‘Aunt Zoe’ and Jo ‘Auntie Jo.’ I told her it was okay.” Melanie took his smile as acceptance and didn’t correct her daughter when she met up with her a few yards later.
Hope had climbed five feet up into a pine tree. “Look what I found.”
Wyatt stood at the base of the tree and looked up. “What is it with you and climbing a tree?”
“Mommy told me she used to climb them all the time when she was my age.” Hope took another branch up with a firm grip.
Melanie felt herself cringe but didn’t say a thing.
“You climbed trees?”
She narrowed her gaze to Wyatt. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
He shook his head. “I can’t see it.”
She placed a hand to his chest and pushed him aside before reaching for the first branch.
Within three feet, Melanie knew the sap wouldn’t come off her hands for a week. But as she closed the gap between her and Hope a familiar sense of awesome washed over her.
Hope sat perched on a sturdy branch with a silly grin. “This is so cool.”
“Be sure and hold on tight,” Melanie instructed. “And don’t get freaked out by bugs or flying insects.”
Hope wiggled her nose and did a little search of her personal space as if she were being swarmed.
“Even bees?”
“A bee sting is better than a broken arm.”
Hope shrugged and reached for a higher branch. The two of them climbed in tandem for a few more feet.
“Hey, ladies . . . how high are you planning on climbing?”
Melanie glanced down to find Wyatt standing with his hands on his hips, his neck stretched to keep an eye on them.
“You’ll learn not to challenge the Bartlett girls.”
Hope giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Wyatt . . . are you coming?”
Apparently, all he needed was an invitation.
He looked a little like Spider-Man without the red costume and mask. He was less careful of where he placed his hands and didn’t pay attention to the branches brushing against his face. Wyatt hung on to a sturdy branch at the base of the tree, near their feet.
“Why are we climbing a tree again?” he asked.
“Because it’s fun!” Melanie said.
Hope pointed to a tree across from them. “Look at that.”
A nest the size of a grown man’s fist held a single bird that intently watched them.
Melanie was about to tell Hope to hold on when her daughter used her free hand to brush off a few ants that were walking along her arm. “This is awesome.” Hope went ahead and pushed farther up.
Melanie followed, Wyatt trailing behind until the branches started to thin. “That’s far enough,” she told her daughter.
They were in the thick of the trees, a good thirty feet off the forest floor. The smell of pine would probably stay in her hair for as long as the sap stuck to her palms . . . but Melanie didn’t care. “You can’t do this in Bakersfield.”
“I don’t wanna go back there again ever. I like it here.”
Melanie glanced down at Wyatt, who had heard her daughter’s words. “I like it here, too.”
They listened to the wind in the treetops for a few minutes, and pointed out things they couldn’t see from the ground. “We should probably get back and help with the dishes.”
Hope offered a small protest but didn’t whine for long.
Climbing down from the tree was a little harder for Hope than ascending.
Wyatt guided her from under, and Melanie stayed a foot above.
Wyatt reached the ground first and lifted Hope from the last few branches before setting her on her feet.
With her daughter safe, Melanie stopped watching the activity on the ground and concentrated on her own descent. The feel of Wyatt’s hand on her ankle made her grin and look.
Watching the mischief behind his eyes, she took another step and felt his other hand reach her thigh. “I think I have—”
“Gotta keep the Bartlett girls safe,” he said.
And then both his hands were on her ass and sliding to her waist, where he plucked her off the tree as if she were a fly.
“There you are.” Only he didn’t let go.
When Melanie turned around, he was snug inside her personal space, reminding her how lonely it was without him there.
For a minute, she thought maybe he’d lean in a little closer. His eyes were already traveling to her lips.
A small voice stole the moment. “We should climb trees every day.”
Wyatt lifted one eyebrow without breaking eye contact with her.
“Mommy?”
Melanie had to turn away from the tractor beams of Wyatt’s gaze. “Yeah?”
Hope was studying the two of them . . . her eyes shifting back and forth.
Melanie took a tiny step back and Wyatt let go.
Hope pushed in between them and grasped one of their hands in each of hers. “Can we climb another one?”
“Sure, sweetie. But not today.”
Melanie noticed the shadow of the three of them once they left the crush of trees. The song in Hope’s voice as she talked Wyatt’s ear off about tree climbing and sticky fingers followed them all the way back to the inn.